well, there's nothing stopping us
by mr-raindrops
Summary: That wall between us will crumble, eventually. A collection of AoKuro fics/drabbles
1. f(x)

**A/N:** thanks to jarofclay42 for reading over ;v; written for OTP Battle

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**f(x)**

* * *

Parallel lines must have the same slopes, Kuroko repeats to himself, moving onto his next cue card. Their paths run along next to each other, but they never meet.

.

.

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"Aomine-kun, do you want to come study with me at the library?" Kuroko had asked, peering sideways at Aomine, but he'd been staring straight ahead. The streetlights and headlights of cars had cast eerie shadows over his face, and it was hard to decipher the expression he'd been wearing.

"Nah. Don't feel like it."

Kuroko bit the inside of his cheek. "You won't be able to participate in matches if you don't do good, Aomine-kun."

Aomine stopped walking, but he was still looking at something up ahead. "You don't get it, Tetsu. I don't feel like it."

Kuroko distinctly remembers the fleeting whisper of something sad in his voice (and the way Aomine had been avoiding his eyes), the few forlorn inches separating them (they hadn't bumped fists in quite a while), and wondering what it had been that he was looking at - if it had been nothing in particular, or if it had been something too far in the distance for either of them to see clearly.

Aomine didn't wait for an answer, and started walking again, his strides too long and fast for Kuroko to match.

(He hadn't waited for him to catch up, either.)

.

.

.

Perpendicular lines have slopes that are the negative inverse of each other; they intersect once, and never again.

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.

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On the way home after a - Wednesday evening's? - practice with Kagami glowering in the corner with his injury, Kuroko spotted Aomine on the sidewalk, on the other side of the crosswalk. Kuroko had been unclear on why Aomine had been out at that time of the night and so close to Seirin, no less.

He'd waited for the pedestrian lights to turn green, and saw that Aomine had stopped to wait as well.

They brush by without a word, and Kuroko couldn't even bring himself to speak up and say hello.

(They're opposites, but that had never stopped them from anything before.)

.

.

.

The function of 'x' changes correspondingly to 'x'. Kuroko whizzes through the practice problems, but when he checks them over after he'd finished, he finds that he'd been careless in substituting 'x' in the equations. He agonizes for a moment if he should redo them, but when he flips to the next page of the workbook, there are more similar questions. This time, he does it right.

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.

.

"Sometimes, I feel like we weren't meant to be." Aomine tilts his head back against the railings to look at the sky. Kuroko wonders how it all happened, how it hurt so bad yet in the end it was never really about basketball, when for them, it was only _ever_ about basketball. "Kise told me that too, when I bumped into him at Winter Cup."

Kuroko gazes at the empty field below, recalling that he'd come to school ridiculously early one morning to scratch out his promise in the dirt. "Maybe," he replies, after some time. "Or maybe we were always just meant to go our separate ways. But…"

"But?"

Kuroko takes a breath. When he exhales again, he feels so much more lighter. "…but I think that one way or another, we'll always end up together."

Aomine arches a brow.

"It'll be different this time," Kuroko tells him, and he watches a smile stretch across Aomine's lips as he leans over; all Kuroko can really feel is Aomine's body pressing against his and all he can really see are his eyes.

"Just a bit," Aomine says softly, and presses his forehead against Kuroko's. Kuroko closes his eyes.

Just enough to make a difference.


	2. Roadside Memorial

**A/N:** written for OTP Battle basically all written for OTP Battle I have that terrible tendency of procrastinating remember ahjgkalgjh orzlll

**Contains character death.**

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**Roadside Memorial**

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[Maybe this is how it went.]

* * *

You were standing in the middle of an intersection, and you turn in a circle, slowly, taking in all that was around you.

You were sure that you were dreaming - you could feel the movement of wind currents and you could hear someone's muffled voice, but you couldn't see your own body and you couldn't feel your contracting diaphragm when you inhaled. You thought you smelled something sweet, and it reminded you of the spring breeze, fresh and flowery, but it was so faint that you convinced yourself that you were imagining it.

Cars whiz by you, but because you had no body, they didn't hit you. It was an interesting experience, though after a while, you felt like you had somewhere that you had to go, though you didn't really know where.

Your mind was peculiarly clear, but when you tried to recall whether if you had something important to do, your thoughts became fuzzy.

You decided to walk for a bit, which was a weird sensation in that instead of your legs carrying you down the sidewalk, it felt as if the sidewalk was moving beneath you, and after a while, you wound up at your middle school. You closed your eyes, imagining the wind carrying an echo of bouncing balls and squeaking shoes to you. This wasn't the right place, your heart told you, so you moved on.

You walked for a long time, following streets and roads at the random, and eventually, you came upon your high school. In the distance, you could hear an occasional bark of a dog, and the soft murmurs of unintelligible words. You felt a pull, but you stepped away. You were needed elsewhere at the moment, and you needed to go.

You arrived at the nearest general hospital, and blinked up at the building. You ended up entering, and soon you were in the elevators, making your way to the fifth floor.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal an empty corridor. At the end of the hallway, one door was slightly ajar; it called out to you. You wandered down the hall, passing rooms that you did not look at because they felt very sad and empty to you.

Finally, you were standing at the door. You slipped in through the thin slit, and the same pleasant, floral smell from before was hanging in the air. The fading sunlight fell across the sole bed in the room, surrounded by quite a few people. You noticed a heart monitor by the bed, hooked up to the patient, and get this - it wasn't even on!

You watched, puzzled, as everyone left, one by one, until there was one person that remained, sitting hunched over on the chair beside the bed. You could only see a part of his face, the other half hidden in the twilight shadows.

"Tetsu," you heard him say, and you opened your mouth to answer, but you never got the chance to say what you wanted to - whatever it was that you wanted to say - because he continued, "wake up."

You heard his shaky breath and you saw a glistening trail on his cheek, and that was when you realized that you had arrived too late.

You felt like you had no control over your emotions, the way you always felt in dreams, and so you started crying and it felt like you couldn't stop; you felt even more horrible when his breath hitched loudly and he repeated his words, his voice breaking at the end.

But you know what the worst part is, though?

It's knowing that you'll never wake up.


	3. Starting Points

**A/N:** I wanted to write this for a long time but LOL PROCRASTINATION. written for OTP Battle. Like I said, all of them are /lies down.

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**Starting Points**

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[They say a proper goodbye this time.]

* * *

This is a better graduation than Teikou's, Aomine decides. Which is fairly obvious, but there are the up's and down's for both.

They find Tetsu only because of Kagami's fiery red hair, a head or two above almost everyone else's. Tetsu's grandmother is also there, eyes twinkling when Daiki spots her.

Satsuki cries just as much and maybe even more than she did at Touou's graduation (which Tetsu attended, by the way), pulling Tetsu and his granny and Kagami into an awkward four-way group hug.

Daiki waits for them to break apart, and shoves a bouquet of flowers at Tetsu, who blinks at it for a few seconds.

"Thank you…?" he looks back and forth between Satsuki and Daiki, most likely wondering who the hell it was that actually bought it.

"Dai-chan specifically ordered the arrangement," she explains, like a proud mother, and Daiki can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks. "This is for you both, by the way."

Kagami, to Daiki's mild surprise, doesn't mock him or make a disgusted face at him, and even hugs him.

"Wanna get off me now?" Daiki pats Kagami's back. "I know you're gonna miss me 'cause I mean yeah, I'm pretty awesome, but dude - no, oh my God, Satsuki don't _cry_!"

Satsuki's rubbing at her eyes and blabbering something incoherent, and Kagami eventually lets go of Daiki to lead her away, along with Tetsu's grandma.

"I'm glad I met you, Aomine-kun." Tetsu's voice is so quiet that it almost gets lost in the midst of all the other graduating third-years. He stares at Daiki - which always becomes unnerving if he does so long enough - and Daiki feels like he's looking at the bits of Teikou's Aomine Daiki left in him, wondering how much of those there even are to find.

"I know," Daiki answers, jokingly, but it comes out breathy and soft and definitely not the way that he had intended it, "I'm glad I met you too, Tetsu."

"I know," Tetsu returns, smiling.

The fear hits him hard and the desperation claws at his chest, because it will only be the street court they will stand together on, only the phone or the internet they will be able to speak to each other through on a regular basis; they will move on forward, like they did three years ago, and they will find new people to have fun with and become friends with and to play basketball with - and with that, their time now ends.

"I'll miss you," Daiki says, thinking a hundred different thoughts and of all the new beginnings and journeys and ends when he does, and clamps his mouth shut when he belatedly realizes that oh fuck, he'd actually said it out loud.

(It's okay though, he supposes. After all, they'll still meet up once in a while and there won't be another person to eat popsicles together with on the way home from school. And though there will be other people whom Tetsu will bump fists with and play pranks on and laugh with, there won't be another Aomine-kun and for Daiki, there won't be another Tetsu, and that's pretty much all that matters.)

Tetsu looks up at him, blinks (away the tears gathering on his lashes, Daiki would say, but Tetsu would totally deny that), and says, with a hundred different meanings behind those three simple words: "yes, me too."


	4. it's a little different without you

**A/N: **been on the plane too much sooooo. written for OTP Battle

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**it's a little different without you**

.

.

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[They're to part ways during a layover; maybe Kuroko thinks a little too much sometimes.]

* * *

i.

Tetsuya leans forwards, pressing the tip of his nose against the cold window, fogging it up as he looks out. They're still quite far above the ground, away from any urban light pollution, and when he tilts his head up just slightly, he can see a silver river of faraway stars flowing through the black of night. They twinkle faintly, a stark contrast against the dark sky and shining brighter than Tetsuya has ever seen them.

"They're bright," Tetsuya says aloud. "Isn't it weird, Aomine-kun? That everyone talks about how bright the star shines, but never about why it shines only at night."

Daiki snorts. "Are you trying to wax deep? "

"Not in the way you're thinking it," Tetsuya rolls his eyes. "It's quite the opposite, really."

(Because you probably don't need me - but I probably need you.)

ii.

He glances over his shoulder at the snoozing Daiki, and the drool slowly trailing down to his chin. The world trembles, and the seat belt signs blink on.

Tetsuya twists himself around in his seat, and making sure that the armrest between them is up and out of the way, snuggles up against Daiki's side. He breathes Daiki's scent in, and out, in, and out, shivering at the disparity his warmth brings from the cool air conditioning.

Daiki stirs, the motion locking Tetsuya's own muscles in place, stemming from the fear that he'd woken Daiki up, but Daiki only moves in to nuzzle his nose into Tetsuya's hair - and Tetsuya's almost embarrassed that that small, unconscious action of Daiki leaning in just to be closer makes him cry.

(It'll be okay, he knows. He can handle the cold on his own. But he can't help but wish for the plane to slow down a little.)

iii.

Tetsuya peers down, just as the more lights came on to illuminate the cabin, the flight attendant's voice over the intercom informing them of the upcoming descent. Daiki yawns, and languidly stretches his limbs as far as the seating space would allow.

"We almost there yet," he mumbles, bleary eyes turning on Tetsuya.

"We're landing soon," Tetsuya confirms, wincing at the way his voice quivers as if it's an aircraft going through turbulence. Daiki seems to notice, but doesn't say anythingr; instead, he links their fingers together.

The plane dips, spiraling down towards the end of their journey. The city lights below are little warm dots of artificial oranges and yellows, and every time Tetsuya blinks, the dots grow closer.

Daiki tightens his hold on Tetsuya's hand.

(There are new beginnings, but still, when it comes to certain things from the past, Tetsuya doesn't want to let go.)


	5. want nothing more

**A/N: **was written for OTP Battle. one of those things I really don't know how to end like? I want to make it longer buT NO MY BRAIN DOESN'T WANT TO COOPERATE /cries pls cooperate i'm-

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**want nothing more**

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Sometime in the summertime, they end up playing basketball until nine o'clock at night and the street is so quiet, Aomine can hear every single one of Tetsu's breaths.

They don't go home after that, either; instead, they head to a hill overlooking a particularly noisy part of the city nearby, and settle themselves down next to each other.

"Look there, Aomine-kun," Tetsu gives a nod towards the sky. "Look up."

Aomine does what he's told, and he's greeted with streaks of light scorching down the canvas of black tinged with artificial orange.

"They tell you to make a wish when you see a shooting star." Aomine can practically hear the smile in Tetsu's voice.

"That's a lot of wishes," Aomine leans back onto his elbows, feeling the grass pricking at his skin, and tilts his head up.

"It doesn't hurt to make one," Tetsu tells him softly.

It's long past the point where he'd get excited about things like this, but he shrugs and complies anyways.

He doesn't know what to wish for, that is, until Tetsu's knee knocks into one of his and he murmurs a sorry. The evening air suddenly becomes much more chillier as a breeze blows by, the kind of cold that's just cold enough to send small tingling shivers through his body.

(He wonders if maybe he's being selfish, wishing for something when he already has all that he has right now.)

When he opens his eyes, his vision is swirling with dots and specks of stars in every which direction, and he feels a little lost.

"What did you wish for?" Tetsu's voice cuts through the awed silence.

When Aomine looks at him, Tetsu's eyes bring him back, so that he can feel the tilt of the Earth's axis and the world turning beneath him and above but still feel like he's able to stand steady on his own two feet.

The look in Tetsu's eyes tells him that he already has a good guess, so Aomine doesn't say anything (because he knows that they don't need words; he'd understand just fine) and tentatively finds Tetsu's hand with his own, linking them together, and finds that his fingers fit into the spaces between Tetsu's just the way he'd imagined.

"What about you?" Aomine asks, despite not need the answer. He knows that Tetsu had wished for it too - for the same thing.


	6. An Afternoon in Winter

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle. how do you title. how do you write. how

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**An Afternoon in Winter**

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"We _could_ be at the court practicing your shooting," Aomine says, pulling up the hood of Kuroko's jacket. "It's never too late to train your ass off for your game against Kise, probably, but I guess the weather doesn't believe in last minute preparations."

"The weather won't change its mind just because you complain, Aomine-kun," Kuroko points out, and Aomine just snorts. The wind picks up viciously, and so does the snowfall, until they decide to give up their trudging to duck into one of the coffee shops lining the street.

Aomine knows the procedure like the back of his hand and also maybe the back of Kuroko's too, and steps up to order - vanilla latte for Kuroko and hot chocolate for himself.

They settle down at a table by the window, even though the chills manages to seeps in the most there.

"What is this, the Arctic?" Aomine grumbles as he pries open the lid of the plastic cup to let the drink cool off a little. He holds his hand over opening of the cup, the steam defrosting his numb fingers, and watches a few passerby struggle in the fight against the wind. (And it's a little sad that the snow is piling up high enough that they're not really making much progress.)

They wait until the storm ebbs to continue on their way home. By then, only flecks of white are drifting about, but the air is still cold.

Aomine stops by a patch of untouched snow, and scoops a handful up. It's the denser kind of snow, the kind that packs together nicely.

Kuroko pauses, and Aomine just _knows_ that he's eyeing him suspiciously. His fingers burn with the cold, and he lifts his head to show Kuroko a toothy grin before throwing the snowball at him.

It hits him in the shoulder, and Aomine snickers at Kuroko's expression, bending down to make another one. This time, when he looks up, his face greeted by a splat of snow. He probably shouldn't be surprised; the last few days have proved Kuroko's aim to be amazing.

(It should be impossible for anyone to look that innocent, which is kind of the infuriating part because obviously Kuroko _did_ do something.)

He throws his second snowball with no hesitation.

* * *

The tip of Kuroko's nose is pink when Kuroko pulls his scarf down, puffing out a hazy fog of breath, eyes filled with now - not what came before Touou or Seirin and not what will come after - and now is dark blue staring into light blue, wonderful on their own but even more so when together because a resonance between them was present from the very beginning.

Aomine leans down, kisses his nose, and at first, Kuroko just blinks, as if waking from a dream, but then he smiles and the icy stinging of his skin is a touch more tolerable.

(He's not quite sure, but it seems like Tetsu's cheeks had become even redder.)


	7. Doctor's Visit

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle. edits don't even help anymore it probably makes it worse because what is sl eep sometimes school makes me want to throw socks at walls also kuroko is kinda OOC at the end /flees

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**Doctor's Visit**

* * *

The three of them are standing in front of the clinic when Aomine finally realizes where they are.

"You lied," he points an accusing finger on Kuroko. "You said we were going to lunch."

"We are," Kuroko replies, unaffected. "Or rather, we will. After you see the doctor."

"No!"

Momoi sighs, and takes him by the elbow. "Dai-chan, come on. You've had this cough for weeks now. We need to check it out."

"No!" Aomine manages to rasp again, shooing her hand away.

"Aomine-kun, it isn't fun to play basketball when you're losing your voice," Kuroko points out. "The doctor will prescribe you something and then we can leave. It's as simple as that."

"It's a waste," he whispers, "of time."

"It's not," Kuroko says, grabbing his wrist.

"It is," Aomine insists, pulling his wrist away, but Kuroko holds on.

"It will be if you keep standing here," Momoi interjects. "Hurry it up, Dai-chan. You're wasting Tetsu-kun's time, too."

Aomine glances at Kuroko, who blinks back in a way that makes Momoi think that it's probably just a more subtle version of a puppy face. Aomine looks disgruntled, but it's apparent that he'd already resigned to giving in.

Before he can change his mind, Kuroko gives a nod to Momoi, and together, they drag him into the clinic.

* * *

"It was like the doctor guy was interrogating me for a crime I didn't even commit," Aomine grumbles, biting a huge chunk out of his burger.

"That sounds as if you've committed a crime before, Aomine-kun," Kuroko comments, and takes a sip from his milkshake.

Aomine gives him a betrayed look. "But even you would agree, right? Satsuki, you know the way some factories mass produce things? Yeah, he was spewing out questions like he was throwing them up or something. Right, Tetsu?"

"Dai-chan, stop talking," Momoi says, if only so she can stop hearing him talk, which probably doesn't even count as talking when he's barely managing to choke out another hoarse word. "Just shake your head, yes or no: that visit wasn't as bad as you thought it was going to be, right?"

"It was worse than I thought it was going be," he tells her; of course he doesn't listen and goes the opposite way of what she was requesting. "But that was okay, too, I guess."

Momoi raises an eyebrow in, and notices Kuroko starting to fidget with his straw.

Huh. New habit, maybe.

"When we were waiting for the doctor, Tetsu kis-" his sentence is cut off by a loud thump underneath the table.

"Kicked him," Kuroko says for him, and gives him a sharp look. "I kicked him to his senses, so that he'd say the appropriate things at the appropriate time."

"I get it, I get it," Aomine cringes.

Momoi just plasters a smile on her face, and pretends that she doesn't know what's going on.


	8. Remaining

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle. initially, this _was _gonna be about mitochondria, but then i kind of but not really accidentally read one of my old astronomy books and boom bye bye mitochondria ( i - i )

* * *

**Remaining**

* * *

"Kagami's going to jump to the International Space Station at this rate," Aomine grumbles. "He's a damn powerhouse of gravity-defying magic."

"Mitochondria," Kuroko says, in an acquiescing tone as he continues to scan through his notes. He pencils in additional side comments.

"Tetsu, no, stop."

"Shouldn't you be studying too, Aomine-kun?" Kuroko asks, highlighting a few points and turning the page in his notebook. "You'll need to get good grades to qualify for Winter Cup."

Aomine gives the basketball a twirl atop his fingers, and answers, avoiding the second question: "who the hell asks for someone to meet up with them so they can sit on a hill and do schoolwork?"

"It's the best place to do schoolwork," Kuroko tells him in a conversational sort of way, which is kind of annoying. "But I think most people wouldn't bring a basketball, either."

Aomine shrugs. "Well, you said most people."

"That's true," Kuroko agrees. "You're not one of them."

They settle into a companionable silence, and a strange sort of contentment wells up inside of Aomine.

"Aomine-kun," Kuroko says. It's weird how his words can cut through the quiet without abruptly ripping it apart, like some people tend to do, and more so like gently pulling at the edges to make it fray. "Have you ever felt like you've met someone before?"

Aomine yawns, and flops down to lie onto his back, making sure his ball doesn't roll away and down the hillside. "Like, déjà vu sort of thing?"

"I guess you could say so," he frowns down at the lined paper, leaning in closer to read a section that looks particularly messy.

Kuroko's hair hangs longer than he remembers from the last time he'd seen him, and he probably will be getting a haircut soon, judging from the way Kuroko keeps brushing his hair away from his eyes - and well, his eyes. Aomine can't remember a time anymore where he wouldn't get lost in them, deep like the sky and hiding something that stretches infinitely with the blue.

The next thing Kuroko says simultaneously manages to surprise Aomine and make his chest hurt and creep him out all within the span of a few seconds. "I'll always be here, so please don't forget about me, Aomine-kun."

"Please don't tell me that's some kind of death confession," he says.

Kuroko gives him a look, unimpressed. "Of course not. But I've read something recently."

"Yeah?" Aomine prompts.

"Something about stars dying," Kuroko squints into the distance, tapping his pen, looking absent-minded. "And their remnants creating us."

"I bet I was from a super bright star," Aomine snickers. "I bet it was brighter than Kagami's."

Kuroko rolls his eyes. "So how does this even relate to your death confession-sounding thing?" Aomine turns his eyes up to the thick, fluffy clouds floating on by.

"One day, when we die," Kuroko says, "we might become stars again. It's a constant cycle."

"So that was a death confession," Aomine throws him a dirty look.

Kuroko shrugs, "not really. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."

"You're really making me kind of sad," Aomine accuses. Kuroko just smiles faintly. "But let me get this straight: basically, you're saying in a very confusing and roundabout way, that we'll all die one day?"

"That's a part of it," he replies, his shadow falling over Aomine as he peers down. "But not really my point."

Aomine groans, "can we please talk like normal people?"

Kuroko laughs softly, the wind catching wisps of it to carry away. "I was just trying to elaborate on what I said earlier. Besides, I think it gets the point across more effectively."

The silence envelops them as Kuroko goes back to studying for his upcoming exam.

Aomine sighs. "You'd think the last year would have been enough to get that point across, idiot."

Kuroko doesn't reply, but Aomine knows that he'd heard by the small upwards curve of his lips, so he whispers, "thanks, Tetsu."


	9. Of the Struggles in Foods Class

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle.

* * *

**Of the Struggles in Foods Class**

* * *

"Oh my God, Kise's going to cut his fingers."

Kuroko looked up at Aomine's comment, spotting the group at the counter across from them. Kise was furiously peeling an apple, glancing every now and then at Murasakibara, who was working beside Kuroko and Aomine in a group with Akashi, languidly chopping up an already-peeled apple.

"Midorima-kun looks very concerned," Kuroko noted, observing the way Midorima shot Kise a strange look as he set a skillet on the stove, most likely waiting for Kise to finish dicing the fruit so that it could be fried.

Aomine snorted. "Yeah, I don't know. I think he's just glad Kise offered to handle the knives."

Kuroko blinked, and drizzled a bit of oil into the frying pan. "Is Kise-kun copying Murasakibara-kun?"

He shrugged in reply, and turned his attention to the cubes of apples on Akashi and Murasakibara's section of the counter. "Why are we cooking apples? Can't we just eat them raw?"

Kuroko poured the meat he'd minced earlier into the pan.

"I bet Midorima's going to set something on fire," Aomine said after a short moment, snickering. Kuroko had half the mind to elbow him, but he continued to stir the sizzling pork. "Watch it all go up in flames."

"Aomine-kun, you're being annoying," he said. "Can you please finish slicing the green peppers? We need to finish cooking before class ends."

"Yes, sir." Aomine pushed himself off the counter top with a cheeky grin and gave a salute. "Right away, sir."

When the clump of chunky peppers finally came cascading into the pan, Kuroko glanced at Aomine. "You were supposed to make them into thin strips, Aomine-kun."

"I could've cut my finger," Aomine said defensively. "You wouldn't want me to cut my finger, would you Tetsu?"

Kuroko just sighed. "You could've at least tried?"

"I did," he insisted. "But Satsuki's skills are like a disease. It's rubbed off on me."

Kuroko didn't want to respond just in case Momoi was listening in on it (even though she wasn't in the class, which had most of their classmates sighing in relief, because that was just how notorious her terrible cooking was). Instead, he lifted the skillet from the surface of the stove. "Aomine-kun, would you please get me a plate for this?"

He whipped one out from the cupboards so fast that Kuroko was afraid he was going to send it flying across the room. Kuroko dumped the contents into the dish, and the teacher, just happening to pass by, nodded in approval.

"We can eat it now, right?" Aomine asked, opening the drawer where utensils were stored.

"Yes."

Aomine beamed, holding up one pair of chopsticks, and clasped it around a piece of meat. "Open up, Tetsu."

Kuroko held up his hands in protest. "Aomine-" He had to give it to Aomine to be able to feed someone so deftly and forcibly without them choking.

"No, Ao-"

The third time, he swatted Aomine's hand away. "I can eat for myself."

Aomine raised an eyebrow. "But it's more fun this way?"

He held a piece of green pepper at the entrance of Kuroko's mouth, waiting expectantly. Kuroko, sadly, felt a little resigned at this point, and complied.

"Next time, we're boiling eggs," Kuroko said, after swallowing the food.

Aomine grinned. "I'm still feeding it to you."


	10. of unsent messages

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle. Prompt by Infinite Skye ( i v i )- Aomine and Kuroko sending text messages to each other that are never sent, and left in the drafts

* * *

**of unsent messages never received**

* * *

He ends the call to Ogiwara with a sigh, not feeling much better than before. It's getting late, and he really should be home eating dinner or doing homework by now, but Kuroko remains seated at the park bench, not quite knowing what to do.

The sky is darkening slowly, and the colours around him are dulling to acquire a grey undertone, not unlike the way things usually do before a heavy rainfall. The light from the screen of his cell phone is glaring in contrast, and his eyes keep flickering to one particular name in his contacts.

He selects Aomine's name, and pulls up a text message box.

(It's your turn to help him.)

Kuroko stares at the screen, all the things he wants to say running through his mind, and types out the beginning of a sentence, then deletes it.

(_Can we talk?_)

(_Do you feel like talking?_)

(_Can you please come to practice tomorrow? I want to talk to you.)_

His thumb hovers over the button to send, and he wants to change the message to something else - anything, really, maybe a trivial subject like reminding him to study for their English quiz tomorrow - but it's all the same, either way.

He sits there reading his message over and over, but he can't figure out a way to change it so that it doesn't sound so - wrong. This continues until he feels the first raindrop on his cheek. Another few fall onto his cell phone screen, blurring the words up, and Kuroko wipes it away.

He should get going, Kuroko thinks, and glances one last time at the message.

He saves it into his drafts.

* * *

He takes one last look at the locker room around him. It makes him feel a bit hollow - the spaces are too vacant and the void is too quiet without the others here.

There's an air of finality when Kuroko shuts his emptied locker, his basketball shoes and practice clothes stuffed into the team-issued bag. He feels a little strange not having to change.

Kuroko closes the doors to the locker room with a click, and makes his way past the first, second, third gymnasium buildings, where he hears the scuffles of shoes and the bouncing of balls as the players began today's practice.

He ends up standing at the entrance to the silent fourth gym, and Kuroko pulls out his phone, and scrolls through the options to open up the drafts.

Maybe the outcome would have been different; maybe not.

He deletes the message.


	11. Weep Not For the Memories

**A/N: **written for OTP Battle. was based off of I Will Remember You by Sarah McLachlan BUT LOL idk i heard ff doesn't want songfics so i just. wrote what the lyrics meant to me which is so much less poetic which really sucks but idk i'm wimpy

* * *

**Weep Not For the Memories**

* * *

i. _how I'd almost forgotten those earlier days because of the way things are now_

When you dare to try and recall how it had been like for him to smile at you so brightly to the point where you felt as if you were in a constant state of euphoria, you never succeed; there's a stronger part of you that doesn't want to remember, because then you would inevitably hold those memories up to compare with what you have now, and inevitably catch every little difference - the tilt of his lips (downwards), the slant of his brows (also downwards), and the look in his eyes (hollow and never trained on yours properly). And every little difference would make your heart thump a little more painfully, your throat constrict a little more tightly, and your eyes sting with more tears that aren't supposed to spill.

You watch him weave his way through the defense as if they aren't people with the ability to move, the perfection of his every movement coupled with the expression he wears weighing too much on you, and so you look away.

You think of his sad smile sitting there in your recent memories, and how he used to do give and go's with you, being the only one who knew where you always were, and how he used to smile when he caught your pass – and there, you stop thinking.

(Right now, the most you can bear to think about is how you would like to see him smile again like that.)

* * *

ii. _if only sleep can make this tiredness go away (I daydream of all the things I want to tell you)_

There's something that you feel every time you close your eyes, transient and sad and just within your grasp - but when you reach for it, your fingers just slip through. When you open your eyes again, you're tired; not the type of tired that comes with a night of staring at the ceiling with no particularly good thoughts afloat in your head, but the type that makes your joints creak every time you try to sit up and your temples throb with every pulse and - it makes you want to _give up_._  
_

But somehow, you don't. You manage to force your eyes open and make your way to school in the morning with Satsuki, though you willingly fall asleep in class and on the rooftop and let sleep drag you back and drown you in your memories.

You don't think it can get any worse, really, until you see him again with a new light and a new team - and you think to yourself that they are everything you and Teikou couldn't be. You want to say so many things to him, and you can feel his gaze on you, wanting to say aloud thoughts of his own, and willing you to say the things you want to tell him.

But he doesn't, and you don't either.

(You can't.)

* * *

iii. _you're the sun peeking over the horizon at dawn, and I've been waiting __so long_

You remember the fourth gym, his words echoing in the void and his faith in you illuminating the path you'd pave for yourself.

He gets lost, and wanders. You eventually find a lantern, and you light it, and you wait.

He makes his way back to you.

It's time, you think, that you move on. (That he moves on.)

Neither of you really know how to give up - not on basketball, not on the past. You know that stubbornly holding onto the past isn't good for anyone.

But, the good thing about being stubborn, you tell him with a smile that he returns not with his lips but with the way he returns your fist bump, is that neither of you knew how to give up on each other.


End file.
